


Winter in Summer

by Adams_Riddle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Oneshot, Open Ending, Sorry Not Sorry, cursed magic draining storm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29184075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adams_Riddle/pseuds/Adams_Riddle
Summary: The war is nearly over, Harry fights Voldemort in the forbidden forest until an unknown curse grinds it all to a halt. Harry comforts Voldemort after his fatal wound.Prompt: 'It's winter. You ask me about love and I tell you about violence'
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Winter in Summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GeMerope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeMerope/gifts).



> I recommend reading this while listening to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WPvfhLDj0c8 . I listened to it while writing this :)

The snow that fell on the 2nd of May 1998 was unlike any that had been seen in Scotland for a long time. Powered by the tragedy of dozens of deaths that day, the snow that fell dampened the magic within Hogwarts, to make the fighting stop once and for all. Death Eaters fled as they felt their magic fade, terrified of what was happening, but within the Forbidden Forest two titans of magical power carried on: One young and scared, but bold in his decisive spells - cutting, stunning, binding; trying anything to bring the other down. The other was a Lord of magic, and wielded the wild magic as easily as his unnatural physical form allowed him to breathe: he conjured nightmare figures of shadow and fire to keep the snow at bay, he could take the very oxygen from the air around the younger man who somehow continued to evade his grasp.

They had not noticed that around them the fighting had stopped, they carried on until their spells started to flicker out of existence before they were reaching each other and the branches began to crack under the weight of the icy snow pounding them from above. One such branch fell from a height directly at the Lord of Magic who spotted it and waved his wand to cast it aside - only for his wand to fail him. He was crushed beneath it, impaled by a dozen smaller branches attached to it. His head was dashed on the trunk of a tree behind him and he ceased all movement.

Harry, the younger of the two, stopped and dropped his wand in horror, the bloodlust of battle evaporating into the cold. He dodged a branch that would have surely ended him in the same way and ran to his enemies’ side. It was difficult to shift the log and he regretted doing so as the smaller branches pulled out of the injured man’s wounds, blood flowed more steadily and was visible as dark stains on black robes. Panicking, he pressed his hands to the worst of the wounds, trying to stop the bleeding, only to pull back his now bloodied and trembling hands (the blood was so warm, the snow, so cold). 

Harry’s harsh breathing was nearly lost in the sound of the continuing snowfall, and his enemy was still not moving, he could see a bloom of red around the back of the man’s head.

“V-V-Voldemort?” He asked, shivering now, he prodded the man and was not even sure if he was hoping he was alive or dead. A deep groan came from the man and made him jump, but the hateful ruby eyes he knew so well did not open. Harry cursed his “saving people” nature as he spotted Voldemort’s wand nearby and tried desperately to conjure bandages or anything to help him stop the bleeding, he managed a piece of fabric that would not even cover a table but folded it in half anyway and hoisted the man forwards to get to his head wound more easily. He pressed the fabric to it, feeling a little sick as it soaked through in minutes.

“Nng… _Nagini_?” Voldemort hissed, his arms reached out a little uselessly. Harry was horrified, wondering how bad the head trauma really was that his arms could barely move. Worried the man would aggravate his other wounds, Harry let go of the soaked cloth and hoisted the Dark Lord under his armpits. Harry sat back against the tree and arranged Voldemort so the man’s head was on his lap, the cloth still stuck to the head wound. Harry was exhausted and covered in scrapes of his own, dirty from running through the forest and the sweat he’d generated while fighting.

He laid a hand on Voldemort’s forehead, feeling the hysteria rising in his chest. He had no idea if anyone else out there was even still alive.

“Voldemort… Who’d have thought it would end like this? It’s almost a muggle end for both of us - you from a falling tree branch, and I’ll probably get hypothermia out here looking after you like some saintly nurse… there was one I learned about in primary school, can’t remember the name but she had a lamp…” Harry rambled, not even sure if the man on his lap could hear him.

“Night-” Voldemort whispered, and Harry hunched over to hear him better, “ _Nightingale_.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you know that.” Harry replied dryly.

“Hm.” Voldemort’s eyes opened slowly, squinting at the blanket whiteness of the sky over their clearing.

“What did you do Potter? Why can’t I feel -” The man shuddered and forced out the next quiet words, “Magic. Legs?”

“Oh. Oh er, I didn’t do this. The snow seemed to get much heavier and my magic is barely working too… as for your legs, you got hit by a falling piece of tree then hit your head. You have a lot of injuries right now.” Harry explained worriedly.

“Nonsense, I’ll be fine, just need… magic…” Voldemort’s breathing wasn’t right, Harry didn’t know what to do, but started moving his hand over the man’s smooth head, avoiding the wounded part, trying to soothe him.

“Maybe when the snow stops, you just have to hold on until the snow stops, I’m sure someone will come find us.” Harry insisted, though the cold was soaking through his thin shirt and jeans, and his lips were turning blue.

“Is that all?” The Dark Lord told him snarkily, closing his eyes wearily. Harry didn’t reply and they sat like that for a few moments, until Harry realised Voldemort hadn’t re-opened his eyes.

“Hey,” He shook Voldemort gently, “You gotta stay awake, don’t let the cold take you.”

“If you insist,” Voldemort murmured, eyes slowly opening a fraction, “Keep talking Potter, the annoying cadence of your voice should keep me awake.”

“But I don’t know what to say!” Harry panicked a little, the pressure that came with being responsible for another’s life.

“Dumbledore was always going on about…” Voldemort started, shifting uneasily, “I have to wonder Potter, if you can tell your mortal and fatally wounded enemy, was there ever anything to his preachings?”

Harry continued to stroke the man’s head and wracked his brain, trying to figure out what he meant.

“His preachings?” Harry asked softly.

“Power of love and all that, I never believed it, hardly seems fair that an emotion I can’t feel should be more hailed as stronger than I. I breached the veil itself and sacrificed so much just to live… Now I wonder.” Voldemort whispered to him, Harry leaned close to hear the gurgle of the man’s voice.

“I don’t think Dumbledore ever meant it as a literal power,” Harry theorised, “More that, when you love your family and friends, you will make yourself more powerful and go further for them than you normally would. The strongest motivator of man: Love.” 

“Sounds like what I did to myself was an act of self-love if the qualifier is to go to an extreme.” Voldemort ventured, almost desperately, seeking validation.

“No,” Harry almost sobbed, thinking of the way the Dark Lord had torn his own soul apart, “That was fear, that was desperation. You didn’t want to die, and I have all but killed you all the same. Your horcruxes are gone, and your body is fading.”

“Tell me, what have you done in the name of love then, Harry?” Voldemort asked, shifting again, one of his arms draped over Harry’s legs while the other curled around his injured torso. He tried to drag his legs up to his chest to conserve warmth, but they barely responded.

“I?” Harry had to think about that, “I… stayed with my mother’s relatives for all of my childhood and never let anyone know how they treated me, not fully, so that in the end they could keep the facade that was so important to them, then when I went to Hogwarts, I did all I could to keep the friends I made safe, to keep the rest of the wizarding world safe. I killed Quirrel and the basilisk, faced a fleet of Dementors and your Death Eaters in the Ministry to save my Godfather who died anyway, I started a rebellion in my fifth year so that Hermione wouldn’t worry about her Defence O.W.L so much. I took on Dumbledore’s quest to destroy your horcruxes and release the world from your grip again, sacrificing my education and a year of my life travelling the countryside while on the run.. And now I might die here with you, because I won’t let you die alone.”

“Such horror you have undergone in the name of love.” Voldemort accurately observed. Harry laughed bitterly.

“It’s summer yet also winter. You asked me about love and I could only find words of violence, but honestly, Voldemort, I don’t know if I know the difference anymore.” Harry found that he was crying, but when he wiped his face only covered himself further in Voldemort’s blood, and the hot tears came faster. “This isn’t how it was supposed to end.”

“I haven’t even lived the average lifespan of an average wizard,” Voldemort laughed, “Unnatural endings all around, Harry. But in the time I have lived, I have learned that the best laid plans do often go awry. I can see my insanity so clearly now that we are at the end, I- I only wanted to bring back traditions in the beginning and make the world see that not all Dark Magic is evil, back when I was just a boy.” 

“You hit your head so hard.” Harry whispered, “I’m sorry, I wish that I’d kept one horcrux alive for you, I wish I could undo all of it for you.”

“Harry, you’re doing so well. You’ve done enough, you should g-go, find your friends, get warm. Don’t die here with me.” Voldemort’s voice was weak, but his insistence was firm.

“No.”

“Harry-”

“ _No_ ! I never wanted anyone to die, not even you, I just wanted you to **stop**. I’ve only ever wanted it all to stop.” Harry cradled Voldemort even as he shivered, wishing he had more warmth to give, more magic to heal him with.

“So brave. Harry, do you think I’m wrong to be afraid to die?” Voldemort asked, peeking at his once-enemy’s face.

“Death is just…” _The next great adventure._ He was going to say, but stopped, the words didn’t fit. “Death is just the natural end, our bodies return to the Earth and nourish the next generation. Not so different from life, I suppose, isn’t everything we do to ensure that those who come after us flourish more? In a way, I suppose I can see how you wanted to do that, to honour the old while bringing in new views about dark magic…” Harry was rambling again, not even sure if he agreed with everything he was saying.

“I regret…” Voldemort stopped to cough violently, he barely felt the burning pain of his wounds through the icy numbness as the snow had started to bury them a little.

“You… regret?” Harry’s heart skipped a beat, wondering if the man’s remorse could save him at the end of it all.

“Yes…” Voldemort’s eyes slipped shut.

“Voldemort. Voldemort?” Harry asked urgently, shaking him a bit. No response. “No…”

Harry trembled, and he cried for the fate of the man who had always dictated the course of his life: The murder of his parents had sent him to the Dursley’s, the prophecy about them had always brought them together one way or another. Delirious and halfway to hypothermia, Harry sobbed and wished things had been different. He clutched the still body of his enemy and rocked him until Harry felt his consciousness slipping away.

~

_“Harry! Come on, we’re going to be late!” Tom’s voice rang out clear and childish. Harry got out of bed and threw on his robes, “Coming!”_

_Tom rolled his eyes, holding the door for Harry. They both rushed down the stairs from Harry’s room to the kitchen for breakfast. Harry paused in the doorway, a woman with long dark red hair was humming as she made a cup of tea. She turned and green eyes met._

_“Harry darling, good morning, all packed for your big day? The train leaves in a few hours!” His mother drew him into a hug and kissed his head. He hugged her tight._

_“Yes mum, all packed. Tom made me re-do it all last night so he could fit his copy of Hogwarts: A History into_ **_my_ ** _trunk. As if there won’t be copies in Hogwarts’ library!” Harry complained, sitting up at the table to eat his toast._

_Tom nudged him playfully, “Yeah, well, I bet they have a dozen copies of Quidditch Through the Ages too, I don’t know why you’d need three copies of that in your trunk.”_

_“Hey! One of those is a first edition I’ll have you know-”_

_“Boys! Good morning.” James rushed in, hair and glasses askew, he kissed both boys on the head and picked up his wife in a huge hug and a kiss, “Good morning to you the most, Lily-flower.”_

_“Ewww.” The boys said in unison._

_“Yeah, yeah, just you wait until you’re older.” James smirked at them both, “I have to pop into the office, but I’ll be at the platform at 10:45 to see the twins off, okay?”_

_“See you soon, deer.” Lily grinned at him. James gave her an adoring look and snatched a slice of toast off the pile before he left._

_“Urgh, I hope I’m never like that.” Tom wrinkled his nose, “Love-y, dove-y nonsense. Who needs it? Bleh.”_

_“Well, you never know, maybe you’ll meet a nice muggleborn and settle down.” Harry teased, “I bet it’ll be love at first sight on the train. Mwah-mwha Tom and a muggleborn sitting on a train, k-i-s-s-i-n-g…”_

_“Mum, Harry’s being an ass!”_

_“Tom! Don’t use that word, Harry, don’t tease your brother. You’ll both find love when you’re much older, don’t put much stock into love at first sight, I certainly didn’t.” Lily told them both, joining them at the table._

_“Yeah, but you still ended up with Dad, and you met on the train, right?” Harry asked, leaning forwards to put his elbows on the table._

_“Yes, that’s true, but he had to prove himself worthy first, feelings don’t just appear, sometimes you have to work on them, and eventually, one day you’ll notice them there. Love, in particular, is a funny thing…” Lily drifted into deeper thought, then jumped up._

_“We’re supposed to be meeting Alice and little Neville before we go to King’s Cross, so go get your things now boys.” Lily shooed them._

_They ran back upstairs to get their trunks, and Tom stopped Harry before he went back downstairs._

_“Hey, do you think she’s right? Can I work on a feeling and one day… just have it? Do you think I’ll have love?” Tom asked, avoiding his twin’s gaze._

_“Sure, we all will, there’s no one who wouldn’t want to be loved, right?” Harry grinned._

_“Right. Thanks Harry.”_

_“No problem, Tom.”_

_~_

**Author's Note:**

> So. Much. Angst! Feel free to interpret the end however you like, be it afterlife, reincarnation, AU, etc. Let me know what you think, sorry if it makes you cry, I certainly felt like it while writing it. Thanks for reading <3


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